


Blood Will Remember

by yodepalma



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Canon Disabled Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Alternate Universe, Canonical Character Death, Genderswap, M/M, Multi, Reincarnation, Role Reversal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-16 00:33:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13624773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yodepalma/pseuds/yodepalma
Summary: When the invitation to Insomnia comes, Noctis knows the gods mean for him to try again. But this time he knows what to expect, and he’s not inclined to play along.





	Blood Will Remember

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't actually _played_ the alternate ending from episode ignis, but this is based on it anyway because i do what i want. (it's ok. i have a permit.) all other mistakes in worldbuilding are due to my terrible memory because i'm creating a "future Eos" based on what i remember of my own gameplay of FFXV. and my memory is notoriously awful.  
>  updates for this story will probably be slow. it is not easy to make the words go lately. :(

These will remain, these will go searching  
Your veins for life when the flame of life smolders;  
The night that you two saw the mountains marching  
Up against dawn with the stars on their shoulders; 

The jetting poplars’ arrested fountains  
As you drew her under them, easing her pain;  
The notes, not the words, of a half-finished sentence;  
The music, the silence. . . . These will remain.

-"The Chamber" by Louis Untermeyer

“Of course, the biggest story of today is the Oracle’s visit. The last time Insomnia saw an Oracle inside of her walls was five hundred years ago, and we all know how _that_ turned out—”

“Turn it off.”

The perky reporter’s voice disappears with a soft click, and Noctis sighs as he leans back in his seat. He should’ve known better than to hope for something pleasant to listen to on his drive through the city. There are hundreds of people lining the streets, and there will be _more_ people outside the castle hoping to get a glimpse of him. His skin itches just thinking about all of those eyes on him. Sure, people in the countryside are generally excited to see him, but this is completely over the top.

Well, it’s probably what he should have expected from Insomnians anyway. The gods know his people had never exactly been _chill_.

“Try to relax, Noct.” Ignis’ hand on his knee drags him back to the present. Noctis takes a deep breath and covers it with his own, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze. “We’ll be there in a moment. You must appear unaffected.”

Noctis wants to ask how he knows where they are, but he won’t get an answer. He’s pretty sure Ignis _remembers_ —the evidence is all there, if he looks—but he never talks about any of it. Not even late at night, when he wakes from nightmares and clings to Noctis like he’s scared he’ll disappear.

The car glides to a halt. Noctis looks up and makes a face at the crowd through his tinted windows, because they can’t see him yet.

“ _Behave_.” Ignis squeezes his knee just hard enough to hurt, and gets out of the car before Noctis can respond. Seriously, how does he _know_?

Waiting for Ignis to open his door gives Noctis a chance to focus on _now_ , so when he reaches out to take Ignis’ hand, he’s prepared for the wall of cheers that assaults him. He puts on his public smile and waves to the spectators, and it isn’t long before Ignis puts a gentle hand on his back and guides him into the building.

“Kinda makes you nostalgic for the Citadel, huh?” Noctis mutters under his breath. Ignis’ fingers twitch against his back.

“Perhaps we can request a tour of the museum before we leave the city.” There’s a bitter note to Ignis’ smile. “You _were_ named after the last true king of Lucis.”

Noctis forces himself not to make a face. He doesn’t want a _tour_ of the Citadel. Who knows what’s been done to it? “Don’t remind me.”

The inside of the castle is blessedly dark in comparison to the sunlight, and their footsteps echo in the cavernous hall. Noctis frowns at the gaudy decorations surrounding them. Absolutely nothing in this place looks functional, all of it golden and _useless_. It’s hard to believe people actually live here.

“My Lord?” It sounds like a question, but Noctis knows when Ignis is reprimanding him.

“Sorry.” He looks toward the door on the opposite side of the room, where a guard has been waiting for his acknowledgement, and a genuine smile crosses his face. It’s _Cor_. It’s impossible not to recognize that grumpy face, even with all the hair hanging in his eyes.

“Oracle.” Cor bows at the waist, low enough that Noctis can see that Cor has a _ponytail_. Noctis bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing hysterically. He can’t believe this version of Cor willingly grew out his hair. “I’m to guide you and your guard to the throne room for the negotiations.”

“Thank you.”

It’s somewhat disconcerting to be following Cor by keeping an eye on his _hair_ , but Noctis tries to ignore it so he can memorize the way to the throne room. He doesn’t want to get lost if he has to get out in a hurry.

Not that he thinks he’ll _need_ to. It’s just better to be on the safe side, historically speaking.

They stop outside of a pair of ornate double doors, and Cor briefly speaks to the guard. Something about him sparks a brief, vague memory, but he doesn’t quite catch hold of it before the doors are swinging open and he’s stepping inside. Oh well. He can’t expect himself to remember _everything_.

Cor announces Noctis and Ignis to the king and princess, then walks off to the side of the room. Not where the guards are standing, or even to sit with the nobility, but to stand in the little boxed off area for the press. With Prompto, who’s wearing a very fancy camera and his biggest smile. And—is that _Dino_? Reaching out to _take Cor’s hand_? Noctis is so not prepared for this.

Ignis gives Noctis a sharp poke, and Noctis moves forward on autopilot. “Cor is holding hands with Dino _fucking_ Ghiranze.” Noctis whispers to him, because someone in this room should be as uncomfortable as he is right now. Ignis’ lips twitch into a brief frown.

“Try to focus, please,” Ignis says, because he wants Noctis to _suffer_.

Noctis can’t pout in public, but he doesn’t want to look up either. He focuses on the stairs in front of him instead, watches them get closer and closer until he knows he can’t go any further. He and Ignis stop at the base of the stairs, but Ignis doesn’t kneel until Noctis taps his thigh to let him know it’s safe.

Noctis looks up. Follows the golden threads of the black carpet lining the stairs, takes in the sight of Ravus decked out in black with the glow of the crystal behind him, and his heart _aches_ for a power he’s never touched. He tries to keep his eyes on Ravus, because that’s who he’s here to speak with, but they inevitably slide to the left. To a smaller throne, and the woman who sits like a statue in her elegant black dress. The woman who _winks_ at him.

_Luna_ _remembers_.

The faintest sound of something tapping against metal brings Noctis’ attention back to Ravus. The king takes his hand off his hip and raises his arms to gesture to the room at large.

“It is my honor to welcome the Oracle of Shiva to our kingdom.” Ravus sounds much less annoyed with life than Noctis remembers, but that may be because he doesn’t hate him this time around. It’s probably weird that Noctis finds that so unsettling. “He comes as a symbol of peace in this uncertain time. We look forward to uniting with Accordo not only to ensure peace for this generation, but also for the generations that will come after us.”

Huh, Ravus is actually good at this king business. Noctis never would have guessed.

The speech drones on for some time, and Noctis just can’t bring himself to tune back into it. Ignis will tell him anything important he needs to know later. Instead he looks over the rest of the nobles, picking out the people who are familiar to him. There’s General Big Nose, looking as full of himself as ever. A few different politicians he never could remember the name of. Helen, who’s definitely noticed he isn’t paying attention and is giving him her Mom Face about it.

Clarus and his wife Ianthe, alive and both healthy by the looks of it. Iris is on Ianthe’s right, barely holding in her excitement, and on Clarus’ left—is Gladio a _girl_? Same scar, same hair, looks like she could pick Noctis up with one hand and toss him across the room. This life just keeps getting _weirder_.

Ravus’ voice trails off and cameras start flashing, which means Noctis has to pay attention _now_. Thankfully he only sees Ravus walking down the stairs, and when he gets to the bottom he holds out a hand for Noctis to shake.

“You haven’t heard a word I’ve said, have you?” Ravus cocks an unimpressed eyebrow at him, and it’s all Noctis can do to keep his own smile from turning sheepish. He hadn’t thought he was being that obvious.

“I got at least the first thirty seconds.” Noctis shrugs and tilts his head toward the Amicitia family. “I was distracted.”

“I see.” Ravus actually _does_ look like he understands. Noctis’ gaze flicks down to his flesh-and-blood left hand and he _wonders_. “You must be tired from traveling here. Perhaps a few moments in our garden would rejuvenate you?”

“Yes, I think it would.” Noctis looks over Ravus’ shoulder to see that Luna has already left her throne. Has she always moved so quietly? “We appreciate your hospitality, King Ravus.”

Ravus nods and gestures for Clarus to join them. His older daughter follows him, hips swaying as her heels click loudly on the tile floor. Noctis knows he’s staring, but he can’t stop himself. Gladio is a girl, sure, he can deal with that. But she’s also _wearing a dress_.

He wonders if it’s designed so she can fight in it. No, that’s a stupid question. Of _course_ it is. Gladio would accept no less.

Gladio catches Noctis’ eye and winks. _Flirtatiously_. Noctis swears if Gladio starts sincerely flirting with him, his soul will just shrivel up and die. For now he assumes it was a hint to stop staring like a creep.

“If you would follow me, Oracle?” Clarus makes a gesture towards a small, dark door in a corner of the room. His smile is polite but genuine, which means he either didn’t notice Noctis staring at Gladio or he’s quietly planning how he’s going to murder Noctis later. It’s always hard to tell with him.

The door takes them to a cramped, curving hallway. The walk feels like it takes _forever_. Noctis is acutely aware of the low ceiling and the sound of Ignis’ gloved fingers trailing along the wall as they walk. Ignis is probably _furious_ about his gloves getting ruined.

Going back out into the sunlight makes his eyes water, but the view of the courtyard is worth it. It’s awash with flowers _everywhere_ , a sight Noctis isn’t used to seeing in the city.

“Gladiola will stay with you while you walk.” Clarus settles in next to the door they walked out of, standing at attention and smiling again. “I’ll ensure nobody _else_ comes in to ruin your peace. Including a _certain photographer_.”

“You can’t blame him for trying, dad.” Gladiola’s grin is sharp. “Or for wanting to see me.”

Noctis rolls his eyes and walks away. Gladio hasn’t change at all.

The courtyard is bigger than Noctis expected it to be. Ignis falls behind him to speak quietly with Gladiola, talking about political things that Noctis has no interest in. He makes a face at the sky and wonders absently if they have a fishing pond.

There’s no pond, but the cobblestone path winds around the flowers and bushes to lead them to the tall willow in the center. The ground beneath it is coated in sylleblossoms, but Noctis barely notices them before his eyes are drawn instead to the bench sitting at its roots.

He has no idea what to say. He’s been waiting for literal _centuries_ to see Luna, and now that he’s here all he can do is stare at her. What if he was wrong about her remembering? What if she was winking because he was _staring_ , the way Gladio had? He can’t afford to look insane in front of the princess, not now.

The man standing at Luna’s side notices his stare and reaches for the weapon at his side. _Shit._

“At ease, Nyx.” Luna puts a gentle hand on Nyx’s hand, but it takes a moment of the two staring at each other before he backs down. “I am certain the Oracle will do me no harm.”

Luna gets up from the bench and glides toward Noctis. His memories don’t do her justice, but that may be because she _does_ look subtly different. Her face is a little thinner, but she looks stronger. In body, but not in spirit. He doesn’t think she could have gotten any stronger than she was _that day_.

“Luna…” Noctis can hardly believe she’s real.

Luna’s eyes fill with tears. “Oh, Noctis. It _is_ you.” She takes the last step toward him and throws her arms around his shoulders, burying her face in his neck as she cries. Noctis awkwardly hugs her back and closes his eyes. Maybe if he pretends hard enough, he won’t be crying too.

It’s about damn time the gods let them see each other again.

**Author's Note:**

> you will pry my crackships from my cold, dead fingers  
> IANTHE, according to a random baby naming website (so, you know, take this info with a grain of salt), was a Cretan woman who was "so beautiful that when she died the Gods made purple flowers grow around her grave."


End file.
